Tales of Their Hero Academia: Wake Up, Shitty Hair
by Zylly
Summary: Ten years before Their hero Academia, Eijiro was badly injured by a Villain. Now, Katsuki faces the possibility that his husband might die...


_Day Two_

Katsuki's world is broken. He's sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair, hasn't moved for hours. He wouldn't have even been able to tell you how long he's been there. He knows, logically, that he must have gotten up at some point to answer nature's call. And he's vaguely aware that people have offered him food, though he wouldn't be able to tell you whether or not he's eaten it. Even the faint beeping of various machines has become part of the background. When he'd first started sitting here, he'd found them harsh, sharp and distracting. But now, nothing.

Katsumi is… She's with Deku and Round Face. That's right. He made the mistake of bringing her here when they got the call that Eijiro had been hurt, that they needed to come to the hospital right away. She shouldn't have… she shouldn't have had to see what she saw, she shouldn't have had to see Eijiro like that… seen either of them like that… She'd clutched onto him so tightly and he'd fought so hard to stay strong in front of her, even while he was breaking inside.

Eijiro lays in the hospital bed before him, hooked to more machines and wires than he can count. He's wrapped in enough bandages to look like a mummy. And he is broken. So very broken. If he'd had any other Quirk, he would have already been dead. They'd had to use special medical tools to stabilize him, locked in his Hardened state.

Eijiro and several other Heroes had gone up against a group of upstarts calling themselves the League of Villains. Nothing but pretenders to the name out to make a quick buck, but deadly and powerful all the same. And a Villain called Strongarm had beaten him worse than anyone ever had before.

He hadn't been there. He'd been on the other side of the country, working on a different case. He wasn't there when the love of his life needed him. Maybe if he'd been there he could have done something… could have fragged that sucker before he could hurt Eijiro. Could have prevented all of… this.

He knows he should count himself lucky that Eijiro survived. Not all the Heroes who had gone out had come back. Sato's wife, Chizu, was one of the ones who hadn't made it. Others, like Tetsuetsu and Pikachu had been carted away with injuries of their own. Only a handful had made it through unscathed.

He couldn't imagine what his former classmate was going through, couldn't imagine what their young son was going through. How would he go on if… How would he explain it to Katsumi if…

No.

_NO_.

He refused to think of that. Eijiro was the strongest person he knew. Stronger than him, that was for sure. Challenges like a relationship, marriage, fatherhood, things that scared the hell out of him, Eijiro had charged into headlong, with a sharp-toothed smile on his face.

They'd gotten Aizawa in from U.A. to erase his Quirk, letting Eijiro revert back to soft flesh. Then, they said, treatment could begin in earnest. But they still didn't fully know the extent of the damage. Didn't know… if he'd ever wake up.

Katsuki gives his hand a squeeze. The doctors had said he might still be able to feel something, that voices and presences were potentially comforting.

"C'mon, Shitty Hair," he says, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Wake up."

_Day Five_

"_You!_" Katsuki strikes out, pinning Eijiro's visitor to the wall. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here!"

Tetsutetsu doesn't fight back, doesn't unleash his Quirk. His grip on Katsuki's hand is just enough to keep him from crushing his windpipe. Katsuki vaguely remembers that he'd been hurt too, his arm broken so badly they'd had to get someone with a heat Quirk to soften his metal form so that they could set it. That arm is still in a cast.

"Bakugo…" Tetsutetsu grunts… "Can't… breathe…"

"Why shouldn't I?" Katsuki growls. Sparks and miniature explosions dance over his other hand, which he dangles dangerously close to Tetsutetsu's face. "It's _your fault_!"

Tetsutetsu's eyes go wide. "What…?" he gasps.

"You're his partner! You're supposed to have his back! Red Riot and Real Steel! The Un-fucking-breakable Team! You're supposed to watch out for him!" He's getting louder with each statement, his anger building and bubbling up inside him. For a moment, he's the Bakugo of his U.A. days, a barely repressed cauldron of rage simmering over and splashing over everything.

"But you couldn't do it! You let him fight that monster alone! If he dies… it's your fault!"

Tetsutetsu shifts to metal now, strong enough to shove Katsuki back, even with one hand. "What the hell is wrong with you?! I came to check on my best bro! He's almost all I've thought about!"

"Both of you, stop it!" A sharp blow cracks against the back Katsuki's neck, knocking him to his knees. He's up in an instant, facing Tetsutetsu's wife, Itsuka.

"You looking for a fight, lady?" Katsuki growls. "I could use the release!"

There's security at the door now, but she waves them off. Realizing what he's doing, here, in Eijiro's room, he nods, holding up his hands. He's not going to fight… not here. Not matter how much he wants to, no matter how much he's looking for someone to blame, someone he can take his anger and grief out on.

But it's not Tetsutetsu's fault. And Strongarm is locked up in Tartarus, out of his reach.

"Bakugo…" Tetsutetsu says, softly. He turns back to flesh, looking down at his busted arm. "Strongarm broke my arm. He was going to finish me. Eijiro shoved me out of the way, took the hit… and kept taking them… Gave everybody time to get out of there… He's a Hero, man. Through and through."

That's what everyone was saying. That Eijiro had stood like an unbreakable wall to give the others time. Time to fight, time to escape, time to get the wounded to safety.

Damn, Shitty Hair. Always thinking of someone else. Never putting himself first. Never thinking about the risks when he threw himself into danger. Just like he'd done for him a thousand times over during the time they'd known each other. A better and more faithful friend and partner than he deserved. Didn't he know he had a husband and daughter who needed him?

"He's strong," Tetsutetsu said. "He'll wake up. I know it."

_Day Seven_

He leaves when visiting hours are over, picks up Katsumi from whichever of his friends is taking care of her that day, goes home, puts her to bed, and sleeps fitfully. And the next day, he gets up, gets Katsumi ready for school, drops her off, arranges pick up, and goes to the hospital and waits. It's the same, day in and day out. His agency calls, but he sends them to voicemail or shoots off a rare text to tell someone else to take care of it.

His world is here. He has to be here, every moment he can. Because Eijiro is going to wake up. And he wants to be the first thing he sees.

"Hey," a voice says at the door. It's Pikachu. He looks better than he has since the fight. He was hurt in the battle too, but not as badly as Eijiro. But from what Katsuki understands, he's a patchwork of stiches and scars under his clothes. But no, he's being discharged today. He gets to go home to his wife and kids, a daughter Katsumi's age and a three year old son. Katsuki presumably knows their names, but right now, he really can't bring himself to care about other people enough to remember.

Pikachu looks over Eijiro and his eyes go dark. He lets out a puff of breath. "Man… that could've been me." Katsuki notices his breathing is still heavy, his movements cautiously like he's trying to avoid popping stitches. He's been injured himself often enough to know the signs.

"Yeah," Katsuki growls, "well, it wasn't."

Pikachu puts a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'm getting out of here today. I'm supposed to be taking it easy, and Kyoka's probably gonna go nuts as it is taking care of me and the kids, but if there's anything you need or Katsumi needs…"

The electric bastard gets to go home while Eijiro's dead to the world and he wants to help? Katsuki knocks Pikachu's hand off his shoulder and Pikachu lets it drop limply to his side. "What we _need_ is a husband and a father who's not in a fucking coma!"

"Hey!" Pikachu snaps, backing up and holding his hands up. "I'm on your side here, man! I was there when he went down! I was there when Chizu… and I just… I just lay there… bleeding out, brains too fried to even know how hurt I was…"

He sank into a chair, head down. "I couldn't save him, man. One of my best friends and I just lay there jabbering while he got the shit beat out him." He looked up, his eyes wet with tears. "I'm sorry… I'm just… so… sorry…"

Dammit, he's barely good with his emotions on a good day. Eijiro and Katsumi are good at bringing the best out of him for that. With Eijiro hurt and her away, he's falling back on old habits, old anger, old walls. He's had a lot of a therapy since U.A, tried to put himself in a better place, a better mindset. He tries to remember that other people are the stars of their own stories, not just extras in his. Right now, without his touchstones, it's hard. He should say something reassuring here, tell Pikachu… something, anything.

"Pika… Kaminari," he says, finally. "It wasn't your fault."

Stupid, stupid Pikachu. Always with that dumb smile. It didn't look right, seeing him sob like some kind of baby. At least he was stopping now.

"You've got a wife and kids to go home to," Katsuki said. "What you can do for me is go home to them. Maybe by the time you get back, Shitty Hair will wake up."

_Day Ten_

There hasn't been any improvement. Things haven't gotten any worse, but Eijiro still hasn't shown any signs of waking up. And Katsuki's been spending as much time as he can at the hospital still. He's barely even seen their daughter. He's eating poorly, not sleeping the hours he's used to, not sleeping the schedule he's used to. All that discipline, all that treating his body like a temple, out the window.

"Always said you were gonna make me soft," he says to Eijiro. "But I'd be a couch potato in a heartbeat if I had you taking care of me again. But you gotta wake up for that."

"Dammit, Katsuki," a voice from the doorway says. "You look like shit."

There were only a handful of people who talked to him like that. One of them was his mother. And he'd have fought back with equal venom if it had been her. But it wasn't. Instead, it was Shizuka Yamamoto, a small, but formidable and foul-mouthed dark haired woman. She was the Office Manager for Eijiro and Tetsutetsu's Agency. She'd also been their surrogate. They owed her a great deal, not just for helping them have their daughter, but for all the times she'd talked Eijiro and Tetsutetsu out of doing something stupid.

"Yeah, well," he growls, "you should see the other guy." She's not wrong though. He looks like shit. He _feels_ like shit. When was the last time he shaved? Mentally and physically, he's just about out of everything he has to give.

Shizuka takes a seat on the other side of the bed, giving Eijiro a long look over. "How's Katsumi?" she asks. Despite having declared herself multiple times as "totally unfit for motherhood," she still cared deeply for the girl she'd carried and given birth to. She and Katsumi had a good relationship. Raccoon Eyes called her Katsumi's "wine aunt." Though Shizuka was really more of a whiskey drinker.

"She asked me today if we were going to have to have a funeral for her Papa like they did for Kenta's mom."

"Oh. _Oh… _Well… fuck."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Or thought. Trying not to swear around her. She soaks it all up like a sponge."

"What'd you say?"

"Told her I didn't… told her I didn't know. That I hoped we wouldn't. That the doctors were doing everything they could for him." And then she'd started crying and he'd just done his best to hold her as long and as tight as he could. She'd never seemed so small and so vulnerable as she had in that moment.

"What do I do if he doesn't wake up?" he asks, finally.

"You hurt, you heal, you move on," Shizuka says. "Same as everybody else. I give you shit, Katsuki, but you're strong. Whether you believe it or not."

"I'm not," he says. "I act tough… and I am tough. But I'm not like Eijiro. If it was me in this bed instead of him…"

"He'd be a sobbing mess," Shizuka replies.

"Yeah, but he'd be a functional sobbing mess. He'd know what to say. He's good with all that emotion stuff. I'm not good at anything I can't punch my way out of. All I can do is throw a damn pity party and shuffle around like a zombie."

He doesn't see the slap coming. Shizuka's Quirk lets her move with incredible speed for three second bursts. Not enough to have made her a Hero, but useful. And apparently useful for slapping him. "What the hell, Shizuka?!"

"I get that you're hurting, Katsuki," she growls. "But you're falling apart here. Literally and figuratively." She jabs him in the chest with a finger. "You've got a daughter to take care of. You've got people who depend on you, count on you. You've got friends, sidekicks, employees, family. And right now, you're killing yourself out of some kind of misdirected guilt."

"You don't know shit," he snaps back, rising out of his chair.

"I know plenty," she says. "I've lost people too, remember? Akina ring any bells?"

"Aw… dammit," Katsuki growls. Shizuka's late girlfriend, who'd gotten killed in a villain attack a couple of years before she'd agreed to be their surrogate. It had been quick, not long and lingering like this… "I shouldn't have…"

"That's right," she says. "You shouldn't have. But you did. But I forgive you. But you've got to take better care of yourself. When he wakes up, he's not going to be able to take care of you _and_ get better."

That almost gets him to smile. "Touché."

"And that goes for you too, Eijiro," she tells his prone form. "I didn't spend nine months pregnant and unable to drink to give you a daughter, just for you to sleep time with her away. You damn well better wake up."

_Day Fourteen_

Two weeks. It's been two damn weeks and there's been no change in Eijiro. But he's taken some of what Shizuka said to heart. It cuts him like a knife to be away from Eijiro when he thinks he might wake up at any moment, but she was right, he was destroying himself, he was stoking Katsumi's fears without even meaning to. So he's spent less time here the last three days, spending time with their daughter, losing himself in a workout.

He feels a little less like shit. Katsumi's sleeping a little more soundly and so is he. He even stopped by his Agency this morning to issue a few directions, put his head sidekick in charge until he returns.

He's going to drop in the rankings for this. He knows that. It's still his dream to be Number One… and that'll still be his dream when he gets back to it. He'd retire today if it meant Eijiro woke up.

Pretty much all their friends had been by at some point. Soy Sauce Face and Raccoon Eyes, Glasses and Crazy Chick, Deku and Round Face, Icy Hot and Ponytail, and more. "Their friends." He wonders if that's really the right word for it. He'd call most of them Eijiro's friends and say he just puts up with them. Maybe he's wrong about that. Maybe not. They've stepped up for him in all kinds of ways since Eijiro got hurt. He doesn't know for sure if he'd do the same for them and it bothers him.

Eijiro's moms checked in with him frequently. They'd flown in on the third day and stayed a couple more. He'd been lucky they hadn't been there to see him scuffling with Tetsutetsu. But he'd told them he'd let them know if there were any changes. Their lives couldn't be put on hold as easily as his. He'd told them he'd handle it.

He wishes he had something better to tell them. He wishes he was handling it.

His own parents check in often too. They're worried about him, worried about Eijiro. The Hag always did like Eijiro more than him anyway. She'd been calling him her future son-in-law from the moment he'd (reluctantly) introduced Shitty Hair to his parents.

He's brought Katsumi with him today. Even with no sign of waking up, Eijiro looks a little less like a mummy as some of his worse injuries have started to heal. She's sitting in a chair near the head of the bed, reading to him from her favorite storybook, a children's book about Deku (the irony isn't lost on him). He's told her that her Papa can hear her, even if he can't show it, and she's determined to try and make him happy. His stomach growls and he realizes it's nearly noon.

"You look like you could use something other than hospital food," a voice says. He looks up and it's Sato, holding a couple of Bento boxes. "Izuku said you'd be here. I, ah, brought you some lunch."

Katsuki is surprised, both by the visit and the gesture. He and Sato aren't friends. They're barely acquaintances, if he's honest. But Sato and Eijiro are. And he supposes that means something. Either way… it's appreciated.

Sato looks like five miles of bad road, bags under his eyes and a pain in those eyes that Katsuki sees every time he looks in the mirror lately. But he looks… functional. In a way Katsuki knows he isn't right now. They're both the walking wounded but Sato isn't caught between life and death the way he is. That door's closed. Closed painfully, perhaps, but it gives him direction Katsuki just doesn't have right now.

"Hi Mister Sato," Katsumi says, looking up from her book. "I'm sorry about Mrs. Sato."

A painful smile crosses Sato's face. "Thank you," he says, softly.

Katsuki gets up, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, before taking the boxes. "I'm sorry too," he says. "I… Eijiro had nothing but good things to say about Chizu. She seemed like a good woman."

Why isn't he better with words? Why does he care so much about that now? He never did before. Marriage… parenthood… loss… It's like he's been seeing things through new eyes of late. What had Pikachu said, all those years ago? That he had the personality of a steaming turd? All that and everyone still stepped up for him and his family.

"Thank you," Sato says again. "I was sorry to hear about Eijiro. Sorry I haven't visited before now, but…"

"I get it," Katsuki replies. "I do."

He looks over at his daughter. "Katsumi, can you keep an eye on Papa for me for a minute? I need to talk to Mister Sato out in the hall."

She looks up from her book. She looks so much like him (and the Hag, if he's forced to admit it) it's almost painful. They flipped a coin on whose sperm they'd used. Right now, if the worst should happen, he's wishing he'd lost that toss. "Sure thing, Daddy!"

Out in the hall, Sato regards him curiously. "What's up, Bakugo?"

He shuts the door to the room most of the way. Just enough of a crack left that he can see or hear Katsumi if he needs to. "_How_?" he asks.

"How… what?"

"Do I have to spell it out to you?" he growls. "How are you still functional? We _might_ lose Eijiro and I'm barely holding it together. It took Shizuka slapping some sense into me to even get to this. And you're… here. Looking out for somebody else. Somebody who, frankly, didn't even know your name until halfway through third year."

Sato leans against the wall, letting out a breath through his thick lips. He runs a hand through his hair. "I look that together?" he asks. "Because I sure as hell don't feel it. Guess I'm getting good at faking it."

"Faking it?"

"I don't have a choice, Bakugo," Sato says. "I've got Kenta. He needs a functional parent. He already lost his mom… he doesn't need to lose me too. He needs someone to tell him everything's going to be okay. Even if… everywhere and everything reminds me of Chizu. Reminds me that she's not there anymore.

"I go to bed alone. I keep waking up, expecting to find her next to me. I still make too much food. I was buying groceries yesterday and I nearly picked up those pickles she liked so much that me and Kenta can't stand. I spend most of my time wanting to cry. But I can't. I can't fall apart like that. I can't do that to our son."

"Sounds like what everyone else is telling me," Katsuki admits.

"It's good advice," Sato says. "But you've got friends, Bakugo. We're all here for you, whatever you need. We went through hell for each other back in school, and we'll still do it now."

He looks Katsuki in the eyes. "Whatever happens… whatever you need, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here. We can go through this together."

"Sato…" he tries, failing to find his voice for a moment. "Sato… thanks."

Opening up to someone he barely knew? He was getting soft. Shitty Hair really needed to wake up.

_Day Thirty_

"Mister Bakugo?" the doctor asks.

"Kirishima-Bakugo," he corrects, automatically. Way back when the two of them had been married, he'd been insistent on that. Eijiro was one of the most important parts of his life. And he wanted to make sure everyone knew it. He wasn't good with words, but he could show it. He'd wanted to be sure the world knew it wasn't just about him. He wanted the world to know it was about _them_.

"Mister Kirishima-Bakugo," the doctor amends. "Can we speak frankly?"

He looks over at Katsumi, reading to Eijiro again. She's not paying them any attention.

"It's been nearly a month since your husband was injured," the doctor says. "He's still reliant on the machines to breathe for him. There's been no sign of higher brain activity since. The odds of him recovering are extremely slim. At this point, you should really consider…"

He's screaming, screaming so loud and hard that his throat is raw. His hands are on the doctor's throat, watching his eyes bulge. He wants to kill him, to watch the light fade from his eyes…

It's not until he hears his daughter scream that he realizes what he's doing.

He lets go and the man slumps to the floor, sucking in breaths in ragged gasps.

"We're not pulling the plug," he growls. "How _dare_ you say that? How _dare_ you say that in front of our daughter?!"

"You're… you're as crazy as they say!"

He doesn't hear anything else the man says. Instead, he's focused on his daughter, who's crying, looking at him with terrified, wide eyes.

He bends down next to her and he reached out, but she shrinks away and that hurts more than anything, more than any injury any villain has every inflicted upon him.

"Katsumi…" he says, softly. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. Daddy just got so mad and so scared for a moment, he didn't know what he was doing, what he was thinking…"

His eyes are stinging and wet and he realizes he's crying, crying like he hadn't cried since he was a child.

"It's okay, Daddy… I just got scared too…"

And he's holding her close and tight and he might not ever let go.

Especially if Eijiro never wakes up.

_Day Thirty-Seven_

"I need you, Shitty Hair," Katsuki says to the prone form of his husband, holding his hand in his. "I'm not strong enough to do this without you."

He gives Eijiro's hand a squeeze. "You are, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to me. You make me a better person. I'm not… I'm not complete without you."

He's seen what his world looks like without Eijiro in it and he doesn't like it, doesn't like it at all.

He gives Eijiro's hand another squeeze. "I mean it, Eijiro. You know my secret? Every time I'm gonna do some damn fool thing, every time I'm gonna say something nasty or do something pretty fucking violent, I think about what you'd say. And yeah, most of the time, I win that argument and do whatever the hell I want anyway. But sometimes "you" do too. And those're the times when I'm a better person."

Something splatters against his legs and he realizes he's crying. The last time he'd cried was when Katsumi was born. If anyone had seen him now…

"I've asked a lot of you since we've known each other. But I'm gonna ask you for one more thing: don't leave me. Just… don't leave me. Please. Wake up, Shitty Hair."

Katsuki is the big, bad Hero, Ground Zero. He doesn't get scared. He doesn't plead. And he definitely doesn't cry. He doesn't back down from anything, he doesn't _worry_ about anything. His biggest concern is supposed to be his next fight.

But he's a father. And a husband. And it's looking more and more like he's going to be a widower. And that terrifies him more than anything in the world. Well, almost anything. If he has to tell Katsumi that her Papa isn't coming home, he will break. He will break into a million pieces and never be able to be put back together again.

This isn't something he can blow up, it isn't something he can punch, it isn't something he can fight. There is absolutely nothing he can do. For the first time in years, he is utterly, and completely helpless.

He squeezes Eijiro's hand again. "Wake up, Shitty Hair. Please."

And then there's… No. Was it… Eijiro's hand was moving, fingertips slowly twitching, giving his hand a weak squeeze in return.

Eijiro's eyes opened.

"_NURSE! DOCTOR! SOMEBODY! SOMEBODY GET YOUR DAMN ASS IN HERE!"_

_Day Thirty-Eight_

Eijiro's awake. Weak, but awake. He's sitting up, free of the breathing tube, but still plugged into a whole bunch of wires that are keeping track of his vital signs. But those vitals are growing steadier by the day.

Katsumi is sitting on his lap, telling Eijiro about everything she's done in the last month, happily going down various tangents until her original point is lost. She talks about Toshi Midoriya and Izumi Todoroki and all her friends, about how much she missed him, about how hard she wished for him to come back. Eijiro takes it all in with a weak smile, doing his best to pay attention and stay awake. It's only when Katsumi quiets for a moment that he speaks up.

"You know… Bakubabe," he says, his voice weak and raspy from disuse, "when I was… waking up… pretty sure… I heard you… saying some… stuff."

"You didn't hear sh… nothing," Katsuki says, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He'd spoken them to Eijiro, but he'd never meant for him to actually hear them…!

"It was… pretty manly… admitting all… that," Eijiro says. "Manliest… thing… I ever… heard."

The road to recovery for Eijiro is going to be a long one. He was in a coma for over a month. They don't know yet if he'll _ever_ be able to go back to being a Hero again. They're not sure about anything he'll be able to do again.

But that's a worry for another day. Because Eijiro's got him watching his back, got their daughter there with him. They all get all the tomorrows they want.

Because Shitty Hair woke up.


End file.
